


and then the storm

by theslytherinpaladin



Series: The Lost Airbender [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Airbender!Zuko, Because Ozai, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25002733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theslytherinpaladin/pseuds/theslytherinpaladin
Summary: Zuko struggles to keep his bending a secret as news from the war front threatens everything.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Ursa & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: The Lost Airbender [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1787839
Comments: 21
Kudos: 243





	and then the storm

Keeping a secret in the caldera had never been easy. Everywhere he went, Zuko knew he was being watched. It was part of being a prince, even if he would never see the throne. There were plenty of people from the Earth Kingdom who were unhappy with the war, and while no one would be bold enough to make a direct attack on the palace Azulon demanded that his family and staff remain vigilant. Aside from the possible danger, Zuko knew he was expected to act in a way that honored his grandfather and his family at all times. If word ever reached his father that he had not been conducting himself in the correct manner, there would be consequences. The only time Zuko managed to carve away for himself, to find comfort in the fact that he was completely alone, was the rare occasions he slipped away to Piandao’s studio and just before he went to sleep every night. 

Zuko had never really thought about this until he actually had a secret to hide, but sitting on the floor of the studio he knew with absolute certainty that no one could ever find out about what he had just done. Being a non-bender was better than being an airbender in the eyes of his father and his grandfather, he was sure. The airbenders had all died at the beginning of the war. Or Sozin believed they had at least. Zuko was living proof that one of Sozin’s most celebrated accomplishments had all been a lie. His father would kill him before letting that truth become known. 

No, Zuko needed to ensure that no one ever learned about what he had just done. Not even his mother. He couldn’t put her in the position to lie to his father. Ozai would see through it in a minute, and then his mother would face the consequences for his actions too. Zuko couldn’t let that happen. But how did he keep this to himself? He had never had a real secret before. Anything that he might have wanted to keep to himself, Azula usually figured it out somehow. She had a gift for knowing things that would embarrass him or get him in trouble. Being an airbender would certainly qualify. 

The only good thing, he thought as he stumbled to his feet, was that no one would immediately guess that this was the secret he was hiding unless he gave them cause. The airbenders were all supposed to be dead. Acting stranger than usual wouldn’t do anything to change that fact. The only way that Azula or his father would be able to figure it out was if he were to use airbending in front of them. He didn’t think that it would be as easy as it sounded though. 

His lessons with the sages and Piandao would continue on as normal. Zuko had never shown more than a hint of his bending during his lessons, but would that still be true now that he knew the reason why? All of those times he had thought he had been affecting the flames he had actually been airbending without thinking about it, without even knowing. What if he went to his lessons with the sages and couldn’t do anything anymore? Or worse, what if he started over thinking it and ended up airbending by accident in a way that couldn’t be dismissed as fire bending? 

He didn’t have another lesson with the sages until the next day, but that left Zuko with entirely too much time to worry over what he was going to do. He stayed silent at dinner, trying to come up with an excuse that would get him out of his lessons for at least a few days in order to figure out a better plan, and it didn’t go by without notice. Ursa looked concerned, and it was hard for Zuko to remind himself of all of the reasons that he couldn’t tell her what he had learned. Azula seemed to realize that something was wrong too, but her attention was more calculated than concerned. Zuko tried not to look at her even though he could feel her watching him until they were finally dismissed. He tried not to let it get to him. She couldn’t guess what was bothering him. She couldn’t. As long as he did nothing to give himself away. He was saved from having to deal with her questions by his mother following him to his room. 

Not that he knew what to say to her either, of course, but at least his mother wouldn’t press him too much if he said that he didn’t want to talk about it. Zuko dropped onto his bed, burying his face into his pillow so that she wouldn’t be able to see his face. He wasn’t going to lie to her, but it would be easier to dodge her questions if he didn’t have to look at her while he did it. She would never try to guilt him into answer her, but he would still feel bad that there was nothing he could do to convince her that everything was alright. 

Like the last time she had found him alone and frustrated in his room, she didn’t say anything immediately. Instead she sat on the bed beside him, placing a hand gently on his back. Zuko pressed the pillow tighter over his face. There was no way that his mother could miss the way that he was shaking. He had managed to hold everything together as he left the studio and throughout dinner, but here in the safety of his room with his mother the full force of what he had discovered hit him. 

His father had insisted on lessons all these years even though Zuko had made almost no progress because the sages insisted that he was a bender. He would develop his talent eventually, they said. He wasn’t trying hard enough. He had developed a mental block about it somehow. All excuses to justify the promise they had made him while ensure that Zuko knew the failure sat squarely on his shoulders alone for not producing results. It didn’t matter that the sages had never tried to change their methods when time and time again they saw that what they were doing wasn’t working for him. 

They had been right though. Zuko was a bender. An airbender when they were all supposed to be dead. His breath hitched in his throat. The only good thing about this entire situation was that his ability to airbend seemed to hinge of that freeing feeling Zuko had managed to stumble upon during his training. He certainly wasn’t feeling that now. Could he only airbend when focusing like that, or was that only something he needed to start? He wouldn’t have to worry about accidently airbending during his lessons with the sages if that was the case. That was far from a freeing experience for him. 

“You know you can always talk to me, Zuko.” His mother’s voice was loud in the silence of his bedroom. 

For a moment, he almost broke. He almost let the whole story spill out of him. The way that Azula and her friends had teased him, going to Piandao’s to practice on his own, the way the force of the air had knocked him off his feet. How it had felt more right that every other time he had tried to firebend. He bit his lip instead, turning his head away from her so that he wasn’t talking into the pillow. 

“I’m okay.” Zuko knew that he couldn’t lie. His mother would know that something had happened, but it was at least partially true. He might be tired and sore and worried about what he was going to do, but he would be okay. He would figure something out. If he was right about the feeling, then he couldn’t give himself away during his lessons with the sages at least. Piandao would be a different problem, but Zuko wasn’t scheduled to see him again for a few days. He would have to find some time alone again and work out what he could do to hide his bending. He didn’t want those lessons to become something else he hated because he couldn’t get his bending under control. 

Ursa hummed, a soft disbelieving sound, but she didn’t ask any more questions. Zuko just hoped that he was making the right decision.

* * *

“If you aren’t going to do this correctly,” the fire sage closest to Zuko said, swatting hard at his raised arm, “then we might as well call this lesson to an end.” Zuko held back his flinch at the touch, holding his position. He still had over an hour of his lesson left, and he wasn’t going to make the mistake of letting them know they were getting to him yet. 

“This is a waste of our time and yours,” the other sage answered from across the room. “You are already far behind the other children your age, and you are making no effort to close that distance between you. Do you not want to be a firebender, Prince Zuko? Should we tell your father that you are no longer suited for these lessons?” 

It was an empty threat, Zuko knew, but that still didn’t stop the instant panic that flooded him at the thought of what his father might do if the sages actually told him they would no longer be continuing their lessons. They couldn’t though. Not when it would be seen as a personal failing on their part as well. Were he truly to stop his lessons, the sages who had spent the most time invested in his training over the years would see Ozai’s ire without the protection of being his son. 

“I didn’t sleep well,” Zuko said, and it wasn’t technically a lie. After his mother had left him, Zuko had tossed and turned most of the night, worrying about this lesson and what he was going to do if anyone ever found out that he could airbend. He needed to find a way to practice without being seen so that he could gain some control. There had been too many examples that came to mind with firebenders who had lost control of their bending for him to pretend that he it would all work out if he pretended he had never discovered the truth about his bending. Now that he had used airbending on purpose, suppressing it would only blow up in his face. Maybe literally. 

He tried to straighten into the correct position regardless. Zuko had thought that he might be able to avoid airbending by shifting through the katas differently, but he should have known that the sages would notice that something was off. He had only been doing the same thing for the last four years worth of lessons since he couldn’t move on to the advanced sets without actually firebending. He took a deep breath, hoping the panic he was still feeling at the thought of the sages going to his father would be enough to keep his bending under control. 

“That is not an excuse for laziness. Lack of sleep will not be enough to prevent Earth kingdom soldiers from striking. Again, and this time do it right or we will be done for the day.” The words were followed by another hit, harder than the previous one, and this time Zuko couldn’t quite stop himself from flinching away from the sage’s hand. He still wasn’t doing the movements correctly, his nerves were too frayed for that, but it was closer to his normal for the sages not to comment. 

Zuko was just finishing the last movement when the doors to the studio opened. He didn’t make the mistake of turning to see who it was, having let himself fall for that distraction too many times in the past. Instead he stood still, frozen in the last position, as he waiting for the sages’ direction. 

“I apologize for the interruption, but Lady Ursa has requested Prince Zuko’s presence immediately.” 

That was strange. His lessons had never been interrupted before, and Zuko couldn’t think of a single reason they might have been that day. Was there something going on that he had forgotten about? 

“Go ahead. We weren’t getting much done today anyway. Use this time to reflect on your mistakes so that we do not have a repeat of this during your next lesson.” 

Zuko couldn’t leave the room fast enough, although he tried not to look as though he were running away. The messenger directed him to his mother’s sitting room. Zuko wondered what would be important enough for his father to allow him to be pulled from his lesson. Had his mother asked him? Or had the request to see her actually come from him? His footsteps slowed as his mother’s rooms came into view. He didn’t think that anyone had seen him using airbending in the studio, but what if they had? What if they had waited to go to Ozai or Azulon, and they were about to confront him about it? 

It didn’t change the fact that Zuko still needed to go see what had happened, and he couldn’t help the sigh of relief when he opened the door to find only his mother and Azula waiting for him. His father wasn’t there. This had to be about something else then. His mother didn’t smile at him when he closed the door behind him, and whatever relief he had felt plummeted. Whatever was going on, it was serious. Ursa reached out a hand as Zuko approached, pulling him closer towards her. 

“I’m afraid we’ve received some news from the front,” she said carefully, looking between Zuko and Azula. “It’s about your cousin, Lu Ten.”

* * *

Everything changed after Lu Ten’s death. 

Zuko had never been as close to his cousin as he would have liked, but that was because Lu Ten was always away at the front. He had thought that once the war was over, when his cousin and uncle returned home for good, that he would have the chance. They wouldn’t just talk about the fighting or the Earth Kingdom like they did on their rare visits over the last few years. In his mind, when Lu Ten came back he would be like an older brother to him. He would see the truth in what Azula did. He would be there to help Zuko with his bending or to tell him stories about when he was younger. Now that would never happen, because Lu Ten had died during the siege on Ba Sing Se. 

He had known it was a possibility. His cousin and uncle were off fighting in a war, after all, but it had always been a distant thing. Yes, people died during wars, but not his family. Not the Dragon of the West or his son. They were both amazing firebenders. They would be fine no matter what was happening during the siege. Except, that it had. His cousin was dead, and his uncle had sent word that he would be returning home. He couldn’t keep fighting in the wake of his son’s death. 

Zuko thought that was understandable. If something happened to him or Azula, he knew his mother would be devastated. It didn’t seem fair to make Uncle Iroh fight when he was going through that. His sister had a different opinion though. She had scoffed at their mother’s news and hadn’t even tried to hide the fact that she wasn’t upset by their cousin’s death. Zuko slipped out of the room while Ursa spoke quietly to her in a voice Zuko couldn’t overhear. 

In the weeks between the news and their uncle’s return, there was a tension in the caldera that hadn’t been there before. The sages still criticized him during his lessons, but no more than usual. Those lessons had never been relaxing, but it was a small comfort to know that his failure wasn’t because of anything that he had done. No matter how many extra hours of practice or how much extra effort he had put into it, Zuko would never have been able to firebend. That took some of the pressure that he had been feeling off even if it did leave new worries in its place. 

Late at night in the solitary safety of his room, Zuko tested his bending. No one came to check in on him during the night, and while there was more in his room he could potentially destroy with his bending than in the mostly empty training rooms, he thought it was better to prioritize privacy. Anyone could walk into the studio at the wrong moment and see his bending, but they weren’t likely to come into his room in the middle of the night. 

Now that he knew what he was supposed to be feeling, bending on purpose was easier. He still couldn’t produce the same amount of force as he had that first time, but it was better than nothing. This became his new normal in the days following the news of his cousin’s death. He would stay up late, hiding his bending practice during the few hours he knew he would go undisturbed, fumble his way through his normal sessions with the sages while putting extra care into his lessons with Piandao so that he didn’t lose what little control he had managed to gain. 

It seemed as though now that he had touched his bending the flood gates had opened, and he could sense all of the things the sages had been telling him to look for in fire all those years. He had a new awareness of the air around him, although he still couldn’t do much with it. It started slowly, but the more he practiced at night the stronger the sense became. He almost wondered what it would have been like to have a real airbending teacher instead of the sages. Zuko had been taught a little about the Air Nation during his history lessons, but it hadn’t been nearly enough to imagine what their training would have been like. 

He knew that the way things were going couldn’t last forever, but he was grateful to have something to do as the tension in the caldera continued to mount the closer and closer it came to his uncle’s return. Zuko couldn’t even really be sure what the tension was for. Lu Ten had died, and Zuko was still having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that he would never see his cousin again, but that didn’t explain the nervous looks he noticed his mother giving his father. Or the calculating gazes his father would fix on his children. Azula preened under the attention, but it was all that Zuko could do not to shrink away from it. The sages had been more forceful in his lessons, and he knew that it had to be because his father was pressuring them about his lack of progress. The closer it got to Iroh’s return, the more that Zuko felt there was something going on that he didn’t understand. 

When his mother announced that Azulon had requested to meet with the entire family, Zuko though that had to have been what he had been noticing. Of course the sages would want to push him if Ozai knew that Azulon would be seeing them soon. Even though he was their grandfather, Zuko didn’t see him very often. Occasionally, he would summon them all before him, but those meetings weren’t held with any kid of regularity. Outside those meetings, he was far too busy with his duties as firelord to see them. 

The only good thing about these meetings was that they never got much warning about them in advance. Zuko didn’t have to spend much time dreading having to see his grandfather before they were ushered into his hall, and once they were there it was easy to follow the same pattern every time. Azulon would be updated on the progress with their lessons. His sister would preen at the chance to show off what she had been learning, while Zuko stared at the floor while his grandfather expressed his disappointment that Zuko had made no further progress with his own training. His mother would be right beside him, a warm presence that he could focus on instead of the distaste in his grandfather’s voice. If Zuko kept his head down and his mouth shut, then he could get through the meeting with a limited number of insults thrown in his direction. Because he couldn’t firebend, his grandfather didn’t seem to feel that Zuko was worth much of his attention. 

The meeting following the news of Lu Ten’s death seemed to be like any of the others, and Zuko tried to make himself believe that Azulon cared about them enough to want to check in with them after the news of Lu Ten’s death. As they were dismissed though, his father broke from the strict script they had always stuck to. He asked to stay behind. 

They shouldn’t have stayed behind to eavesdrop. They shouldn’t have. Zuko knew the moment that Azula grabbed him and pulled him behind that curtain that it was a horrible idea. If they were discovered their father and grandfather both would have been furious, and Azula would have absolutely found a way to spin it into being his fault. He couldn’t fight her on it though. Not when doing so would have drawn attention to them and their hiding place. So they stayed, and they listened, and Zuko had never regretted a decision so much in a long time.

* * *

Zuko should have been used to his life changing suddenly with no warning of the shifting about to occur, but this was too much. The last thread to break on the fragile hold he had over his panic. He had tried so hard to convince himself he had everything under control. The pressure from the sages didn’t matter, because he knew the insults they threw his way weren’t true. He was an airbender, he could never do the things they asked of him so he shouldn’t feel bad about it. He wasn’t a failure just because they couldn’t see the truth. Azula’s taunts were always harder to ignore because she knew better the power behind her words, but Zuko solved that problem by avoiding his sister as much as possible. His secret airbending practice made him exhausted the next day, and he might not have been making as much progress as he would have liked, but he was having to do everything on his own while trying not to be discovered. It was fine. He was fine. 

_Dad’s going to kill you._

Azula had sung the threat at him with too much glee as though she were hoping she would be there to watch. Zuko lay in his bed, her words echoing in his head, wondering if this was really going to be it. Had he struggled to keep his bending a secret for long only for it to not even matter in the end? If his father was going to kill him on Azulon’s orders then there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

Azula always lies. Except when the truth is worse. Zuko spent the night awake and terrified that every creak in the floor or rustle at the window was his father coming to follow Azulon’s orders. 

What happened next passed in a blur of events that Zuko would have trouble separating when he tried to look back on them. His mother coming into his room in the middle of the night. Waking up to the news that his grandfather was dead. His mother disappearing and his father being named firelord. In a blink of an eye, his whole world shifted. Zuko broke, and his mother wasn’t there to help him pick up the pieces.

* * *

He still attended his lessons, but he barely put any effort into his attempts. Every time he thought that he was ready to try again he could feel the air moving around him, and he knew that one wrong move would give himself away. Bending was tied to emotions, he had always known that, but he had foolishly believed that if he kept that happy, freeing feeling locked away that he would be able to keep his bending just as stifled. He was an idiot. He knew nothing about airbending, and now he was paying the price. One wrong move and he would slip up. One wrong move and everyone would know. 

His lessons with Piandao were just as bad. Zuko couldn’t concentrate, and it only took one near miss for Piandao to ban him from touching a sword again until he managed to pull himself together. Of course, Piandao didn’t phrase it like that, but Zuko knew what he meant. He probably should have felt ashamed for failing, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel anything. His mother wouldn’t have abandoned them unless she had too. Wouldn’t have abandoned him. And there was something of Azula in the way that Ozai had avoided his questions. 

No, something had gone horribly wrong. Azula seemed to know from the way that she smirked at him, but Zuko didn’t bother to ask her. He couldn’t trust her to tell him the truth, and anything she made up would only make him worry more. 

The only bright spot in the mess that had become his life was that Ozai was too busy adjusting to his new role as firelord to do anything to Zuko. The sages had to have been telling him about the abysmal performance he had been giving them, but either his father didn’t care enough to address it with him or he was actually giving him time to grieve. 

When Zuko heard that his Uncle Iroh had finally returned from the war, he didn’t know what to do. What did you say to someone who had lost their son and father in such a short time period? Who had been passed over for the position he had been promised since birth? Did he resent Ozai for being firelord? 

Ozai met Iroh with all the fanfare that was required for the return of the former crown prince, but their meeting did not last long, and Zuko went days without seeing his uncle again, shuffling through his lessons in a fog that he couldn’t shake. He hadn’t need his uncle in a long time, but he should say something to him about what he had gone through. Iroh had always made sure to send letters and gifts back to them while he was away, and the pain of Lu Ten’s death wouldn’t have softened in the weeks it had taken him to reach the caldera again. He was just as alone as Zuko, but Zuko couldn’t find the words or the energy to track him down. 

Every night he went to sleep hoping that he would wake up to discover that his mother’s disappearance had just been a terrible dream. Or that she would reappear and that it had only been a misunderstanding. Awful, but solvable. 

In the end Zuko didn’t need to find Iroh. Iroh found him. 

Azula was busy somewhere with Mai and Ty Lee. That was the only reason that he had been able to go out to the turtleduck pond where he and his mother had spent most of their rare moments alone. Enough time had passed that Zuko knew that it wasn’t just a misunderstanding. That his mother wasn’t going to show up again just as suddenly as she had disappeared. This was going to be his new normal now, and he needed to find a way to deal with it. The sages were pushing him more and more, the old burn on his hand raw and peeling again, and if he didn’t find a way to get out of their training that was going to be the least of his problems. 

His father was firelord now, and Zuko knew without having to be told who Ozai felt about having a non-bender as his heir. Some days, when the harsh words from his sister and the sages and the disappointed and calculating looks from his father became too much, Zuko wondered how bad it would really be to reveal the truth. He might not be a firebender, but surely his father would rather he be an airbender than nothing. Zuko never considered the idea for long. Years of history lessons had taught him how that conversation would go. His great-grandfather had started the Hundred Years War with his attack on the Air Nation. How Zuko had inherited airbending was irrelevant. His father wouldn’t care unless he suddenly developed the ability to firebend.

Although, Zuko realized, that would make him the avatar, and give his father a whole new reason to want to kill him. No, it was better that he put up with the situation until he could find a way out of it that didn’t involve airbending. 

Zuko thought coming to the pond would help him to think about what his mother would tell him to do. Despite knowing that it was a bad idea, he wished he had told her about his bending while he had the chance. Would she have been okay with it? Would she have taken him with her when she left if she had known? Or would he still be sitting in a court with increasing reasons to want him gone with the additional knowledge that his mother would have rejected his bending too? 

“That’s a serious expression you’re wearing, Prince Zuko.” 

Zuko flailed, startled at the quiet voice, barely righting himself on the bench instead of tumbling into the grass below. He turned, bewildered, to see his uncle standing beside him, his hands tucked carefully in the sleeves of robe. Iroh flashed him a small smile, quick and then gone, before stepping closer and looking out over the pond. 

“How are your lessons with the sages?” Iroh didn’t look at him as he spoke, so Zuko didn’t bother hiding his disappointment. That was what everyone wanted to know. How were his lessons going, when was he going to firebend, would he ever catch up to his sister? More recently, how could the future firelord not be a firebender? 

“They’re fine,” Zuko mumbled, kicking at the grass. He had just wanted some quiet time alone, not to be criticized by the uncle he hadn’t seen in over a year. 

“But they could be better, couldn’t they,” Iroh mused, and Zuko braced himself for whatever motivation his uncle was going to offer. It was his duty. It was embarrassing that he hadn’t figured it out yet. It shamed his father to have a son who was such a spectacular failure. It didn’t matter that none of those things were true. They believed they were, and Zuko was left to deal with their pity. 

“I’m sure the sages haven’t changed their teaching methods since I studied with them,” Iroh continued, turning back to face him. He might have glanced at the once again bandaged hand in Zuko’s lap, but like the smile the look vanished too quickly for him to be certain of what he had seen. Zuko couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, and there was a weight to his shoulders that Zuko didn’t remember being there the last time his uncle had come to visit. “I spoke with the sages, and I have requested taking over your training personally. If that’s okay with you, that is. If you would like to continue your lessons as is, then that is your decision.”

For a moment, all Zuko could do was stare. Living with Azula had taught him a long time ago that there was always a purpose to a person’s actions even when they were seemingly doing something nice for you. Especially then. Zuko couldn’t play the games that Azula did, and he had never wanted to, but sometimes he wished he was better at seeing through the games that other people thought they were playing. Iroh had to be getting something out of this offer, but Zuko couldn’t see what it might be. 

Did he want to take him up on the offer? The lessons with the sages were useless. He wasn’t going to learn anything from them, but taking on Iroh as his teacher wouldn’t help that. Would Iroh notice what the sages had not? It would be a risk, letting him get that close. Zuko felt fairly certain that the only reason the sages hadn’t noticed that he was intentionally messing up his lessons because they were used to underestimating him. Despite their assurances to his father, they still expected him to fail. Iroh wouldn’t be asking this though if he thought that Zuko was hopeless. Could he afford to have Iroh, the Dragon of the West, dissect his every move for hours on end? Could he afford not to agree? The burn on his hand flared with pain, and Zuko found himself standing before he could really think his actions through. 

He bowed, hands rising to the traditional pose. “I would be honored to have you as my teacher, General.”

“Now, now,” Iroh said, a lilt to his voice that hadn’t been there a moment before. “You know you can call me ‘Uncle.’


End file.
